At sight of her wireless Captain von Mueller promptly alerted von Guerard to stand by to intercept any alarm that she might try to broadcast. At the same time, he sent Leutnants von Levetzow and von Hohenzollern across with a boarding party to examine her papers and tend to her quick disposal should she prove to be English. Lauterbach pretended to be much distressed, but in spite of his play-acting it was evident to all that he was, on the contrary, rather relieved.
This time, however, Conrad Lauterbach might have enjoyed his chore.
Hans von Levetzow, the Emden's second gunnery officer, was first up the ladder. Franz von Hohenzollern was close at his heels. Behind them the boarding party followed quickly. But instead of the usual gathering of ship's officers, headed by the Captain, they found themselves confronted only by a single, swarty, curly-haired, and barefooted seaman in a dirty singlet and dirtier breeches.
"Wait here!" Von Levetzow started toward the bridge.
But the dark-faced seaman barred the way. "Spettate! Spettate qui!" he cried.
"What the devil is he saying?" von Levetzow asked.
Franz shook his head. "Don't look at me! It sounds like Italian, but I don't speak it."
Von Levetzow angrily turned back to the sailor. "Where is your Captain? . , . Kapitan! . . . Kapotan?"
The man looked puzzled for an instant, then seemed to catch at least one word's sense. "Ah, Capitano!" He almost smiled. "Si, si! Momento!'' He went on into a flood of explanations that meant exactly nothing to Franz or von Levetzow.
"Never mind all that," von Levetzow snapped in German. "Either take us to your Captain now or tell him that we demand to see him here immediately."
"Non capisco!" said the man sullenly.
"Blode Kerl!" Von Levetzow was livid. "Are we to stand by to be insulted by this stinking tramp?" He turned and beckoned to the armed marines by the rail. "Achtung!" he began.
"Wait a minute, Hans!" von Hohenzollern interposed quickly. "Let's not be hasty. If I am right, this is an Italian ship, and Italy is still neutral—"
"Are you trying to say that you are awed by that?" von Levetzow snarled at him.
"Not at all," said von Hohenzollern. "But I hardly wish to incur the Emperor's wrath. I have a feeling that the government would scarcely look kindly on any complications touched off by us in such a petty matter." "Petty—" Von Levetzow was still angry. Fortunately, their attention was diverted by a loud and furious burst of voluble Italian. They both turned to see a hugely fat little man, splendid in his holiday-best blue and gold uniform—putting it on had obviously been the cause of his delay since it was plainly uncomfortably tight—rolling down the deck toward them at a jiggling half trot. Behind him came a group of other sailors in varying stages of uniform dress, evidently his officers.
"Ah, so you are here at last!" von Levetzow exclaimed. "We have been waiting for you!"
The Italian Captain looked blank, spread his hands, and launched again into Latin apologies and explanations.
Von Levetzow shook his head and broke in impatiently. "I don't understand any of that. I am Oberleumant von Levetzow, and this is Leutnant von Hohenzollern, of His Imperial Majesty's cruiser Emden. What ship is this?"
The Italian looked blank. "No capisco'' he said, spreading his hands.
"Zum Teufel!" Von Levetzow glanced at his companion. "He speaks no German. We speak no Italian. What are we to do in such a situation?"
"Let me try," von Hohenzollern said, and turned to the Italian. "Do you speak English? Parlez Francais?"
The portly Captain's eyes lighted. "Francais?" he cried. ''Oui! Oui! Un petit peur''
From that point on it was comparatively simple. The ship was the Loredano, of Genoa. The Captain's name was Ragone. They were bound for Calcutta, Rangoon, and Singapore; their cargo was entirely Italian, for Italian firms in those cities. Their papers were in order. There was no reason to detain them.
On the personal side, however, it was a more delicate matter. It appeared that Captain Ragone's feelings had been severely damaged. He particularly resented being stopped, and he made it quite clear that he had no sympathy for Germany.
The information was relayed to the Emden. There was a long, awkward pause.
"Tre bien!" said Captain Ragone, the Italian, impatiently at length. "2z/f, flutte, crotte et merde! You have all the particulars. You have seen my credentials. Do you not leave? Am I not to be permitted to go on my way?"
"If you please, Captain." Von Hohenzollern tried to be placating. "Your papers are quite in order, and you will be permitted to proceed presently. However, we must await our own instructions first."
"I shall complain to my consul!" the Italian snorted.
He was interrupted by the winking signal from the Emden's bridge:
Loredano continue on original course north by east. Emden will accompany as far as convoy. Party will remain on board until recalled.
Franz read the message —with some surprise and no little concern. What in the world did the Old Man have up his sleeve? Whatever it might be, he was certain the Italian would not like it. Diffidently he translated.
"What?" Ragone shrieked. He went off into a long, sputtering streak of staccato Italian; then seeing the blank looks on the Germans' faces, switched to French, in which he was a little more comprehensible. "What? Am I to sneak along with you like a prisoner? Jesus, Maria, and all the Saints! I have shown you that I am a neutral. I will not put up with it."
"Gently! Gently, Kapitan Ragone," Franz von Hohenzollern soothed. "Of course you are neutral, and of course you will be free to go presently. But my guess is that Kapitan von Mueller has some favor to ask of you before you leave and he wants to be moving back toward the convoy as he prepares his message."
"Pah!" the Italian snorted. "What could he ask of me? Anything I might do would constitute unneutral service and make me liable to detention by the English."
"I doubt if he has anything like that in mind, Captain." .^2?'■^P.^^^ ''— he cited the case of the Pontoporros.
T ylS- ^°'" *^ ^'■^^^ ^° ^^'"^ abut—not me," said the Italian. His cargo was contraband. Mine is not."
"I can only suggest that you wait and see," replied von Hohenzollern. "Whatever it is, I assure you th Captain von Mueller will not ask you to do anything contrary to the law."
"Hmmmph!" Ragone growled. "What choice have I?" He turned on his heel and strutted, with as much dignity as his corpulence would allow, forward toward the bridge ladder. ''Go with him," von Levetzow said wearily. "You'll be at hand then to give him messages from the Emden. I'll stay here with the men."
But no further word came from the cruiser until nearly dark, when they had joined the other ships. Then the Emden's blinker flashed:
Request Loredano to convey British prisoners to Calcutta. Emden will supply necessary provisions and we draft on German Government to cover cost of passage.
Hohenzollern translated. Captain Ragone exploded. 'Why? Why should I do this for him? For whom? For accursed Germans? No! Definitely not! I will do no favors for you! That is my last word!"
Hohenzollern shrugged and turned back to the wine of the bridge to signaclass="underline"
Italian Captain refuses suggestion. Stand by.
He turned back to Ragone. Already the dusk was closing in. Captain Ragone," he argued, "if you will consider for a moment, you will see that what Captain von Mueller asks is no favor to him. On the contrary, he is asking you to act in behalf of the English."